


Annoy with Caution, Tiny Blonde One

by kikitheslayer



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mistletoe, Post-Movie(s), Pranks and Practical Jokes, Snow, Snowball Fight, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2015, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5581714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick invites Veronica, Logan, Mac, Wallace, and Keith to the Casablancas' winter vacation home for Christmas, and Veronica decides the prank Logan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Annoy with Caution, Tiny Blonde One

It started with an invitation to the Casablancas’ Winter vacation home. 

The house wasn’t exactly a Winter wonderland -- it was too big and impersonal for that -- but there was snow, and that was more than enough for the Californian owners. Ordinarily, this time of year it would have been occupied by Richard Casablancas and a much younger woman, but he had been forced into working over the holidays, and had had to begrudgingly award Dick the keys. 

Two weeks before they set out, Dick had swung into Logan and Veronica’s apartment loudly declaring they should, “Like, bring everyone. Old Casablancas saying: the more, the better chance of weird sex stuff.” 

Veronica blinked. “How’d you get a key again?”

Dick waved a hand noncommittally. Logan was silent.

After a beat, Veronica shrugged. “I’m up for it,” she said. To Logan she added, “But I’m not going to a cabin in the woods with just you and Dick. One way or another, that ends in a murder.”

“Dude, I’m right here.”

* * *

When she invited Wallace and Mac, they quickly agreed, and each high-fived her. “I’m not huge on nature,” Mac said, “but don’t you love it when rich people just _give_ you things?”

They also invited Keith, because Veronica refused to celebrate Christmas without him, and Logan was still desperately trying to make him forget he had existed pre… well, pre-whatever the last time Keith thought Logan had existed was.

* * *

They planned on staying at the cabin for a solid week, leaving the day after Christmas. Come Christmas Eve, Logan and Veronica snuck away to exchange presents alone in their room upstairs. Things on the lower levels had gotten fairly rowdy, and considering the rather copious amount of times they’d been told to get a room, it just made sense.

They were sitting next to each other on the floor with a few gifts and small pile of discarded wrapping paper. Logan was glaring at a doubled-over Veronica. “What do you think?” she choked out.

Logan was holding a brown, cable knit sweater with a felted-on gingerbread man and sparkles he was 90% sure Veronica had added herself. This wouldn’t have been terrible, were it not the fourth ugly sweater he had received. He folded it, set it aside, and reached for another gift. “You know this got old, like, twenty minutes ago, right?”

She shrugged, took a sip of her hot chocolate, and said, “You’re only saying that because you don’t appreciate the work I put into this. I’ve been shadowing Good Wills for the last two months.”

He pulled out a red sweater with an applique santa face creepier than the last three cases Veronica had worked. “This is gonna come back to haunt you, Mars, mark my words.”

She tried without much success to stifle another laugh. “Whatever you say, Kris Kringle.”

* * *

The first night they’d been there, Veronica had proclaimed, “This house belongs to a Casablancas, Logan. You think I’m getting _inside_ the bed?” Logan had rolled his eyes, but the two still now found themselves cuddled on top of it under a fleece blanket, Logan with a book and Veronica with her iphone (and Logan’s hair).

Her phone chimed, signaling the start of a string of texts from Mac.

**Mac Attack**

[what are you guys doing rn]

[shit don’t answer that]

[ANYWAY we're all going out in the snow]

[but you guys can meet up later if you're busy ;)]

**Da Boss**

[You need to stop]

[We’re coming]

[Logan can wear one of his new sweaters]

**Mac Attack**

[i thought i told you not to fucking do that]

**Da Boss**

[If I’m remembering correctly]

[And I am cause I’m looking at your texts right now]

[your exact words were “V, don’t do that. it’ll ruin my idea for you. JK. that’ll be hilarious”]

**Mac Attack**

[i'm a busy woman. i can't be bothered to remember all this he said she said]

Veronica rolled her eyes and put her phone to sleep. She turned to Logan. “The others are going out in the snow.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “What do you say you go out there and show them all how handsome you look in argyle?”

He pushed away the blanket and stood up. “What did I say, Veronica? You’ll live to regret this. We’re talking deep remorse--”

Veronica interrupted him. “We’re talking there’s no way in hell you can intimidate me while wearing a lovingly made Frosty the Snowman cardigan.”

“Other people aren’t as brave as you. Show this face to anyone who doesn’t get shot at regularly, see how they like it.”

“Yeah, but I do get shot at regularly. It’s the job I chose. Which some would say indicates bad taste, and I’m just like, have you seen my boyfriend?”

“Glad I can help your image.”

“Who said that was a compliment?”

He laughed. “Cold, Veronica. Cold.”

* * *

That, it turned out, was also an apt description of the outdoors.

Logan grabbed Veronica’s gloved hand as they trudged through the snow.

“Aw,” she said, only somewhat sarcastic, “how sweet.”

He wrapped his other arm across his chest. “More like ‘Aw, how necessary’.”

“Hey,” she said, “the airport lost your coat, not me. If I’m correct, I’m the one rectifying this situation.”

He glanced ruefully at the multiple sweaters he had tugged on. “You do have a way of planning ahead.”

“Exactly. I didn’t want you to be cold. Did I also want you to look ridiculous? Up for debate.”

Logan was about to respond, but Wallace and Mac hurried up to them, panting.

Wallace rubbed his hands together and adjusted his scarf. He and Mac were both grinning and bouncing on their feet. “Come on,” he said, “you guys don’t want to be the annoying couple, right?”

Mac chimed in, “It’s very aggravating for us single folks.”

“You gotta socialize at some point.”

Logan and Veronica shared a glance. “Well,” said Veronica loftily, “if we’re going to stop staring into each other’s eyes, you guys better have something pretty fun planned.”

Mac opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off, as Veronica tumbled forward, snow splashing across the back of her black jacket. Veronica turned around, drawing in an overly offended gasp.

Logan just had time to grin before he took off in the opposite direction, Veronica a step behind, expletives on her lips.

Soon, everyone had joined in, and there was snow whizzing through the air in every direction. Veronica caught a second wind and jumped Logan, causing them to both spiral onto the thick blanket of snow.

Logan wrapped an arm around her. “You know, we could have just stayed in bed. Much smaller chance of Hypothermia.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and turned her head. “Are you kidding? This is war. Not to mention, they all think we’re still trying to get each other. This is our chance!”

Logan sat up and shrugged. “I guess the more snow I get pinned with the more this sweater is covered up.”

“That’s the spirit.”

* * *

Logan reached up and tugged on Veronica's scarf. She quickly knelt down into the sliver of cover provided by the hastily made snow fort.

"They're retreating," she gasped. 

After the volley of snow had started, there had been a short break to establish rules. If you fell, you were out. Alliances had been quickly formed and easily broken. Logan and Veronica were working in tandem, past betrayals set aside. Mac had teamed up with Keith after turning, laughing, on Wallace. Dick and Wallace had exchanged a glance and sighed, resigned to their fates.

“What do we do?” asked Logan, breathing heavily, head turning, waiting for her command.

She smirked. “You’re the soldier.”

Rolling his eyes, he replied, “I’m also wearing multiple layers of polyester. You’re clearly in the lead here.”

She laughed but quickly dropped the smile and nodded resolutely. “Wallace and Dick are our real competition,” she said. “Mac and Dad have them pretty distracted. I say we go in for the kill.”

“Okay, so just so we’re clear: when you say “kill” you mean lightly hit them with snow, right? Because this could get really ugly, really fast.”

“No, I mean let me go grab my taser. Come on, babe. Get it together”

“Hey, we had weird childhoods.” He began packing a snowball in his gloved hands. “Mac and your dad chased them to the back of the house.”

She nodded. “Follow my lead.”

* * *

The snow fell thick and heavy, enemy fire. Veronica had tumbled into the snowbank. She hadn’t gone down without a fight, however, and Wallace was next to her. They settled into the damp drift and watched, wide-eyed, as the scene unfolded.

Mac was proving herself in the final moments, pulling out an aggressive, physical side neither Veronica or Wallace could remember seeing. She pelted snow at both Dick and Logan with all the might in her keyboard-accustomed arms. They were attempting to wade through the snow to avoid her onslaught, although they were all getting in some good shots themselves. 

Logan managed to hit Mac in the shoulder while simultaneously dodging a snowball of Keith’s. “Your man’s got a good arm,” remarked Wallace. “I might have to recruit him.”

Veronica laughed and shoved him in the shoulder lightly. “So does yours.”

Wallace’s eyes widened, and he made a sound of mock-indignation. “Please. Dick wishes he was in my league.”

In what seemed almost slow-motion, Dick and Logan made eye contact and came to a split-second decision.

Dick made a strangled battle cry and leapt for the ground, tugging Mac’s sleeve and dragging her down with him. “On the ground,” he said, “no take-backs.”

“Goddammit,” swore Mac. “Kick his ass, Mr. Mars!”

Logan wasted no time in packing another tight snowball and aiming it at Keith. Soon all eyes were trained on the two, locked in what could only be called the most dramatic snowball fight ever recorded between two grown men. It didn’t end until a good five minutes later when Keith backed away from an oncoming snowball and misstepped, tripping over a concealed hole.

Applause rose from the small crowd for a few moments before finally Mac said, “That was cool and all, but can we go inside now?”

They all agreed and quickly trekked inside, stomping the snow of their boots at the door. Veronica pulled Logan aside. “I think you may have lost about five points in the “good boyfriend” rating that goes on in my dad’s head at all times.”

“Did I at least look sexy doing it?”

“Remember it’s a relative term.”

* * *

That evening, seated around the Casablancas’ dinner table, Keith raised a glass. “To Logan. The only man to ever make me look like a fool while competing in an ugly sweater contest with himself.”

“Uncalled for,” Logan said, joining in the toast anyway.

* * *

“Hey,” said Veronica, her voice low. Everyone else was in the parlour watching some football game on the flat-screen, which made this the perfect time to steal Logan away to the second living room (or fifth, or sixth. Veronica wasn’t sure if the house had a numbering system in place).

The scene fit about every romantic cliche on the list. The room was dark, lit only by the crackling of an orange fire in the hearth. Veronica was wearing a santa hat. She had made sure a slow Christmas song was drifting from the phone in her top pocket. And suspended in the doorway right above them...

“Make a wish,” said Veronica, pointing at the mistletoe.

Logan laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “That’s not the tradition.”

“I know,” said Veronica, “make a wish anyway.”

“I wish we would get to the actual part of the tradition.”

Veronica smirked. “Fine. But you gotta hear my wish first.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It is…?”

She held up and wiggled three fingers. “I’ve actually got three.” 

He nodded. “Of course.”

“First, that you and I are the first to ruin the sheets on Dick’s bed. Second, that you and I have a happy new year where we don’t break up. Third, that I never have to see whatever your idea is revenge is.”

He kissed her quickly, pulled back, and said, “I can guaranty the first two,” he said with a smile, “but you’re out of luck on the third one.”

She rolled her eyes. “Good enough. Now give me a kiss _worthy_ of this mistletoe.”

* * *

Everything was ready -- the venue, the flowers, the cake. Amazingly, there hadn’t even been a single fight. The only thing not ready was the groom.

Veronica hiked her white dress around her knees walked across the hall to Logan’s dressing room. She knocked loudly on the door. “Logan,” she mused, “is it considered bad luck if I only saw a picture of you before the wedding? Cause Dick texted me, and I’m just wondering what kind of first year I should plan for.”

Through the door, Logan called, “It was from the neck-down. We’re probably fine.”

“Oh, good.” She turned and leaned against the wall, bending to speak through the crack between the door and the wall. “I gotta say, you really did surprise me with this one. Kudos.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “I’ve been planning for a while.”

She said dryly, “ So I gathered.” She paused for a moment, toying with the hem of her dress. “So, let me guess, your plan is to wear the sweater until I admit you got your revenge?”

She could picture his grin perfectly. “I love how well you know me.”

“Right. And when the Wedding March starts in fifteen minutes?”

“Is this really going to last that long?”

Veronica tried to push down the forming smile. “Fine,” she said with a long, deep sigh, “you win. Happy?”

“Extremely.”

“Okay. You going to take off the ugly Christmas sweater now?”

“This is _clearly_ the ugly Hanukkah sweater.” He sounded somewhat indignant.

Veronica nodded absently. “Right. I”ll see you out there, okay, babe?”

She barely waited long enough to hear his affirmative reply before rushing off.

* * *

Veronica squeezed Logan’s hand. She nodded toward her dressing room. “I’ll meet you at the reception, okay? I have to change.”

“Whatever you need, _Mrs. Echolls_.”

Veronica shuddered. “Terrifying.” 

Dashing into the dressing room, she asked, “You got it?”

Mac held up and shook a paper bag. “A Mars-Echolls wedding? I knew I’d get sent on at least one weird outing. I had all these on stand-by.”

Veronica grabbed it, quickly shimmying out of her wedding dress and into the lighter blue sundress. She reached into the bag, pulled out an itchy sweater, and put it on over. “Who was it who suggested a Summer wedding?” she grumbled.

“Uh, you.”

Veronica pulled back her hair. “Yeah, I really should have anticipated this.”

* * *

The reception was in a park just a few minutes away from the ceremony, but by the time Mac and Veronica arrived, it was already filled with people and the loud hum of excited chatter. Veronica caught sight of Logan speaking to someone across the lawn and smiled. The plan was coming together perfectly.

The others quickly joined them and received their instructions.

Veronica’s gaze drifted back to new her husband. “I guess I should go meet Logan,” she said. “You know how spouses get.”

She walked across the damp grass to where he was chatting with a guest, finally stopping just behind him and tapping his shoulder.

He spun around, already trying to tell her something, but fell silent. Suddenly, he burst out laughing.

“I win,” she said.

“Hey,” he said quickly, “let’s not go that far. I don’t actually care if you wear that sweater. I had a great day either way, so really--”

She cut him off. “What if I told you 60 percent of the people giving speeches were also wearing holiday sweaters?”

He raised an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’d say that’s something I have to see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
